Another Useless Death
by callisto24
Summary: Dark crossover taking place after Season 3 of Heroes. Written for the Heroes Big Boom Challenge in Live Journal. Includes character's death, angst and slash.


Another Useless Death

Author: callisto24

Beta-Reader: hazydecay who did the most amazing work on this you could imagine. She owns my eternal gratitude for working so hard on this. *hugs* All remaining mistakes are definitely mine.

Pairing: Nathan Petrelli/Jess Mariano, Nathan Petrelli/Peter Petrelli somehow

Rating: R

Genre: crossover, slash

Fandoms: Heroes/Gilmore Girls

Characters: Nathan Petrelli, Jess Mariano, Peter Petrelli, Angela, Arthur, Noah

Warnings: Deathfic, alcohol abuse, prostitution, incest

Summery: After the events of Season 3 Nathan comes close to breaking. He finds himself imprisoned with Peter, who had lost his memory. None of them knows where he is or what they are expected to do. Mild slash.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, no money made.

* * *

It's been a while since Lorelei Gilmore had visited New York City. She sipped on her coffee and glanced around the little diner she had chosen for her next dose of caffeine.

The door opened and a young man stepped inside, crossing the room with fast strides and quickly addressing the waiter with his order.

In one fluent motion, he sat down near a corner and thanked the waiter for the cup the man placed immediately in front of him. Obviously, he wasn't here for the first time.

Lorelei blinked and stared again at the man. She hesitated a moment, then shrugged, emptied her cup and stood up.

"Jess!" she smiled. "It's been a while. How are you doin'?"

The man looked up, glanced through the dark bangs falling into his face. Lorelei decided that the haircut fit him, better than the curls he wore when he dated her daughter. Besides, he seemed to be more at peace now. Aged, for sure, but in a good way.

The man still looked at her, then frowned. "I'm sorry, ma'am?"

Lorelei giggled. "Jess Mariano! Don't pretend you won't recognize me. I know we haven't seen each other in years but Rory told me about your book store."

"I'm sorry," the man repeated. "You must have been mistaken. My name is Peter, Peter Petrelli."

Lorelei laughed. "Come on, Jess. I know you never liked me. But that's just ridiculous."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "I swear, I've never seen you before."

He smiled his little crooked smile and Lorelei bit her lower lip, and glared at him.

Peter answered her gaze, until she stepped back. "No, really", she asked. "You're not kidding?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm not. Trust me."

"You've never been to Stars Hollow?"

"Never."

Lorelei clicked her tongue. "You won't believe how much you look like him." She shook her head. "It's really amazing. You must be the same age, as far as I see."

Peter forced himself to smile again. "Well – I'm not him."

The woman went on chatting for a little while and Peter zoned out without intending to do so. It had been a long day and his current power wasn't helpful, considering hospital work.

So he looked up relieved when he noticed that she prepared to go, put on another of his friendly but forced smiles he had practiced while Nathan ran for office.

He waved when she went, shortly musing about the possibility that this Jess guy could be one of them. But then he shrugged the thought off, deciding that there existed far too many mysteries in this world for one man to be solved.

Day after day, it became clearer to him, that he had enough of this shit, enough of the constant threat he still felt in his bones no matter what Ma or Bennettt or even Nathan told him about how much they've got everything under control.

He blew on his coffee and when the steam rising up from the contents of the cup vanished in the air, he dared to take a first gulp.

It didn't help. Peter already was too tired to stay awake much longer. And somehow he preferred this tiredness to the constant thoughts and doubts whirling through his head.

Thoughts about Nathan.

Painful, disturbing thoughts he couldn't suppress even if he tried to.

Peter sighed. He got up, paid and left the diner in order to return to his apartment. It occurred as funny to him that he still owned the same one he did when everything started.

Too much had changed. Too much destroyed he couldn't repair.

And again his thoughts returned to his brother while he walked along the familiar streets, from time to time suppressing a yawn.

Peter wasn't even sure if the strangeness he felt occurred from Nathan's behavior or maybe from the behavior of people around him.

Their mother, for example. He couldn't remember her being so protective, so controlling, so always around Nathan before.

Sure, Nathan lost his wife, but it seemed to be a little odd to replace her with his mother at public events.

Not that he appeared very much in public anymore.

Senator Nathan had pulled back quickly after his last speeches following Sylar's burying. He had explained to his interested audience what had happened, after the New Company had designed the best cover for the past events.

Peter imagined lots of reasons for Nathan to give up his career finally, without really doing so.

In a way, he vanished more and more, became one of many, ready to give up his work even before the next elections would force him to do so.

Certainly, the man felt guilty after everything that happened, everything he had caused. And Peter could tell, that the feeling of guilt was growing the more time passed, the more time Nathan had to think about it.

At first, Peter had hoped that the bond between them which had once been stronger than everything else could be repaired. That they would reconnect, find each other again, talk things out.

But none of it happened.

It was a question of time, Peter had thought, when Angela clung to Nathan, Bennett constantly watched over him and even Parkman seemed to be close all the time.

It was kind of annoying, but Peter understood the importance of the company coming to life again.

Just that he felt no patience for being involved. He did what most of them tried to do. He went back to a normal life, leaving the attention to those who craved it.

And though Nathan once had been one of them, he had changed even in this aspect of his personality. No one seemed to notice, no one seemed to care. But Peter could tell because he knew his brother better than anyone else. Ever did, ever would. And that was exactly the reason why Peter felt constant confusion when it came to Nathan.

It looked to him like the man had given up. And Peter understood that he had any reason to.

Hell –sometimes he felt like giving up himself. And the feeling was familiar.

The only difference lay in the fact that, until this moment, Peter always had been able to rely on Nathan. He had been able to rely on his brother to clean up the mess he had made, to make him forget the troubles he had gotten himself into, and to offer comfort and understanding whenever Peter needed them.

But these times were gone. They were gone for a long time, Peter discovered, when he stood in front of the building where he lived in and fumbled for his key.

They were gone since the moment he blew up, when Nathan flew him away, saved him from creating the worst scenario Peter could have imagined these days.

When Peter held Nathan, held his burned body in his arms, brought him to the hospital filled with the biggest fear he had ever felt before, they had been close together, really close, for the last time.

Everything that followed led to the Nathan Peter knew today.

Maybe it was his own feeling of guilt which separated them. Maybe he never had been able to forgive himself for hurting Nathan so badly, for Nathan being the only one to bring back his memories, to save him again from Adam's sweet lies, just to be shot. To suffer again, to die again.

Someone coughed behind him, and Peter finally managed to unlock the door. He climbed the stairs feeling even more tired than before.

Whatever happened after - their father, Nathan's desperate try to get a grip on the situation by using the wrong means, their sudden and hesitant approach to each other – couldn't wipe out the mistakes they had made.

And what Peter felt, Nathan seemed to feel even stronger, because his retreat became more and more obvious.

That and his constant alcohol abuse.

Peter hadn't noticed ever before – not really.

Not when he had been a child, maybe a teenager, and it seemed to be pretty cool to hear some stories of his brother and his behavior under influence.

Pretty normal too, for Nathan was a young man, trying himself out.

Maybe it even was Nathan's own little, weak attempt to protest, to flee the demands of his family.

And later, when Peter learned about Meredith and Claire, the pieces of the puzzle fit together even better.

Nevertheless Nathan always had himself under control enough to be able to hide his misbehavior, he always had been the strong one.

That was the reason why Peter felt a little irritated when he heard what happened after the explosion, after he was gone and considered dead.

But he usually took the telling as lies or terrible exaggerations. Nathan wasn't the guy to get himself uselessly and repeatedly drunk. Peter couldn't imagine this, didn't want to believe it.

Until now. Until he saw Nathan believing himself unobserved and drunk to the point of oblivion.

Therefore Peter decided to take back Matt's mind-reading ability. He needed to know what went on in Nathan's head.

But then – he couldn't.

Nathan's thoughts whirled around too quickly to get a grip on one. They were confused, mingled, mixed into another like there were two people in Nathan**'**s head struggling for dominance.

Peter had to admit that he was afraid. Afraid, and in a way, disgusted he couldn't explain to himself.

That's why he stayed away. That's why he couldn't bring himself to re-establish the bond between them.

And that's why he felt depressed himself.

Peter opened the door to his apartment, stepped in and fell onto the couch the moment he was close enough. He closed his eyes and fell asleep at once.

Working to the point of exhaustion clearly owned its advantages.

*

"How long? What do you think?" he asked.

"Patience", Angela answered. "You've waited so long. It won't hurt you to be satisfied with watching until your time comes."

Arthur smirked. It didn't matter. In the end, he would always get what he wanted.

*

It was one of those nights. Dark and cloudy, filled with pain and regrets. One of the nights Jess always tried to forget after it had taken place.

But though he tried, he never could avoid repeating his fault.

An unknown destiny drove him forward once in a while, forward to places like this, streets like this, where he could nothing do but wait for the inevitable to happen.

He had stopped asking himself a long time ago for the reasons why he did what he did. It belonged to him, was a part of him, like his attitude, like his negative point of view, like his conviction that he would always and forever remain a worthless punk.

And as if he wanted to prove this, he sometimes couldn't deny the urge to offer himself like a piece of flesh ready to be taken by each bystander, by each crappy man searching for a moment of relief.

He never had to wait for long, couldn't remember otherwise, though he wasn't as young anymore as most hookers waiting in the shadows.

Each time again, it looked like a miracle to him when he was picked up rather quickly. Could be because he showed no sign of being picky, which was because Jess couldn't imagine someone finding him attractive. He was too short for once, his nose had been broken in a fight when he was a kid, and his immobile lower lip annoyed him enough to avoid a look in the mirror.

The last time he cared for his appearance had been long ago when he still carried hopes deep within that Rory might come back to him some day.

But she won't. And even if she tried, it was too late. He was too far gone, had given up too much. For the rest of the world, he held up the illusion of going his way with determination, but deep inside he knew pretty well that he was broken long ago.

For that reason it didn't matter who was taking Jess with him.

On the contrary, Jess felt a strange satisfaction when he was chosen by someone who looked dirty, who felt dirty, who had the words 'abuse' and 'violence' written on his forehead.

Only this time, it wasn't one of them. This time, it was different.

This time it was a long and dark limousine slowly riding along the street, no doubt searching for an appropriate victim for the night.

When it stopped in front of Jess, he froze. But when the door opened and a hoarse voice asked for his price he answered immediately and slipped inside as soon as he was signaled to do so.

The limousine looked even bigger from the inside and Jess realized at once that the man sitting opposite of him couldn't be more than an employee.

In fact, he resembled mostly a kind of butler, and Jess couldn't do otherwise than stare at him in wonder. The only time before he had dealt with a life-style like this had been the one time he had visited Rory Gilmore's Grandparents, and it wasn't a memory he cherished.

The man scrutinized Jess for a while. He studied his features until Jess started to squirm in his seat.

Then he picked up a cell-phone and spoke in a low voice. "Got him. He's perfect. Just as promised. They could be twins."

Jess cleared his throat. "Pardon me?"

The man smiled. "You are a lucky guy, Mr. Mariano. The Petrelli-family just chose you to help them in an important matter."

"I… Don't know if…" Jess stuttered, but the other man just raise his hand. "It will be to your advantage. And I promise you that your expectations won't be deceived."

Jess pressed his mouth shut and stared at the glass the man filled for him. The shape of it seemed expensive and the rich smell of whiskey filled the air.

He nodded then, accepted the drink and leant back contently. This couldn't be so bad. It definitely couldn't be worse than what he had been up to.

*

Nathan stared at the clock. He didn't know why, but he couldn't keep his eyes from it, couldn't stop listening to the rhythmical sound.

And he hated himself for his staring, hated himself for so many things.

Nathan missed Peter. He missed him terribly. He missed him so much it hurt each second. And he couldn't tell why he did.

He should be able to see him anytime he wished too. It should be like it had been before, before their abilities. It should feel natural and comfortable to see him, to talk to him. But it wasn't.

It felt wrong.

Nathan missed the glances they had shared, deep and meaningful.

He missed their understanding. And he missed more, though he didn't dare to think about what exactly he was missing. There had been a closeness, Nathan was sure about it. They had been closer than they were allowed to be. Closer than brothers should feel.

But the closeness was gone, replaced by carefulness, by a certain worry.

Nathan saw worry in Peter**'**s eyes, each time they met, and he couldn't deal with it. If he hadn't known better, he would interpret these worry as fear.

This wasn't possible. It wasn't fear Peter could feel when he saw him.

Anger maybe, sorrow about the faults Nathan had made. Fury or deception. But fear? Sometimes, it looked like barely suppressed terror, and Nathan couldn't help but compare the impression his brother made on him with the way his mother looked at him.

Sometimes. When she thought he wouldn't notice.

And not only Angela. There were more people who looked at Nathan in a strange way.

Like his appearance horrified them. And noticing this horrified Nathan.

But when he thought about whom he could turn to for help, for comfort, it was just Peter who came to his mind.

And Peter was out of question. Had been for longer than he would prefer to think.

Therefore, Nathan came to the conclusion that he was alone, would be alone forever. He knew that there wasn't any forgiveness for him. That his future held no brightness, no light and, no trust.

Nathan had destroyed the right to be trusted anymore. Even by his own family.

Instead he found himself imprisoned inside the dark Petrelli mansion.

Surely, he was free to go wherever he wanted to. Free to fly wherever he wanted to.

Nathan was a free man, he knew it. But he didn't feel it.

Instead, he noticed the increasing number of guards around the house or in his office.

In fact,they were wherever he went.

Dark figures watching him through glasses which weren't showing their eyes.

They hid from him, but he saw them everywhere.

Sometimes, he just believed to see him – Peter - though an increasing feeling bothered him. A feeling telling him that sometimes his fantasy overflew his rational mind.

Nathan never had been the one to step away from reality. He always had been able to keep his feet on the ground, to be the anchor for Peter and his tendency to wear his head in the clouds.

Always – until now.

The only way out Nathan found had been the exit he always chose when the world crumbled down around him.

He poured some more whiskey into his glass and drowned it fast, only to fill the glass again quickly.

This way it wouldn't take much time for him to sink into beautiful oblivion.

He was right. He didn't take much time until he slumped down, hitting his head hard on the desk he was crouched in front of. To his luck, he already was too far gone to notice. Nothing else mattered when he lost consciousness, only to sink in a deep dreamless sleep.

*

"I've been told about this guy years ago", Bennett said. "No powers. Just the strange resemblance. Bad luck it is for him – so I'd say. Nothing more."

He shook his head, glanced one last time to the screen with the blurred image of Jess Mariano lying spread on a white cot. The doctor beside him was busy turning away his just used instruments and nodded into the camera.

"So, he's healthy", Angela stated.

"As healthy as someone can be who is selling his body on the streets."

Bennett sighed. "But yes, he's healthy and with the correct haircut, the removing of some scars, it should be easy to deceive Nathan. Though I still don't understand the reason why you should do so. Besides…" He looked at Angela. "It must be hard for you to, not to speak of confusing."

Angela shrugged. "I've seen too many confusing things or people in my life. The important thing to know is that he's got no powers and can fool my son."

Bennett shut his eyes. "It's still a strange plan."

Angela smiled slightly. "It isn't. We have to know if there is still some part of Sylar left inside Nathan. If it is, he will only show up when we're taking extreme measures."

"It will drive Nathan to the edge", Bennett warned, but Angela shook her head.

"My son is strong. It's his affection to his brother which keeps him away from becoming the man he's destined to be."

Bennett cleared his throat. "Well – I'm still not sure. But if you think it's for his best, than it might turn out to be for Claire's best too."

Angela reached up to clap his shoulder. "Exactly. I'm glad to hear you agree. And you certainly will in the long run."

She blinked into the direction of the hidden camera which transported her picture to Arthur. 'Soon', she formed soundlessly with her lips and smiled, knowing that he understood.

*

Nathan woke up to darkness. His head hurt, but the feeling was all too familiar.

The blackness surrounding him appeared new, as well as the silence.

He sat up and groaned.

Not just his head hurt but every bone ached, and he couldn't tell if the reason was liquor or the strange surroundings he still couldn't see but feel.

Obviously he had spent the night lying on the floor. Nathan touched cold stone, and for a moment, his fuzzy mind just wondered what happened to the carpet.

More things turned out to be disturbing with each second he stayed awake.

Nathan blinked, tried to see something but the world around him remained black.

He gripped his head and groaned again.

Hell – the whiskey from last night must have been worse stuff than usual.

Nathan tried to remember if he had taken some pills to sleep, but failed. Everything after he had opened the new bottle and drowned the first glass remained a mystery.

And somehow, he had woken up on a cold floor.

Nathan took a deep breath. The blackness was thick but he could tell that he was inside a room. Somewhere inside a house.

Nathan wondered which part of the house it could be that he had stumbled into.

From the coldness and the stone floor, he guessed the basement. But he couldn't imagine what had driven him to go there.

Even more – why hadn't he been stopped by one of the guards his mother had placed everywhere.

Had he been too drunk to be convinced to leave? Had she decided to finally leave him alone?

Nathan sighed. He felt tempted for a moment to just lie back and rest another moment. Maybe he should wait until the sunrise. Or for someone to show up with a cup of coffee. One he could spice with a well-dosed shot of liquor.

But the decision wasn't up to him.

A light flashed and Nathan had to squeeze his eyes shut from the sudden pain adding to his headache.

"What the fuck…" he mumbled, hearing his own voice hoarse in his throat.

Nathan blinked andblinked again, until his eyes adjusted to the light.

After a moment, he noticed that it didn't even shine that brightly. A small bulb spread a dim light across an unfamiliar environment.

The walls like the floor were made from grey stone. The ceiling low and the whole room bare of much furniture. It gave Nathan the impression, he sat on the ground of a cell.

And he wasn't alone.

On a narrow cot next to the wall he noticed a small shape, covered with an also grey blanket.

Nathan sighed and finally stood up. Slowly and carefully, he staggered to what seemed to be closest to a door and bumped against it.

"Hey… Anybody out there?" His throat hurt when he fruitlessly fumbled for a handle.

There wasn't any.

Nathan bumped again against what sounded and looked very much like a door.

No answer.

Nathan brought his body weight against the door, but beside a sudden pain in his shoulder he received no result.

"Goddamn", he cursed, and started to feel his way with tentative steps along the wall. From time to time, he punched against it, but the muffled sounds caused by his attempts told him of the thick stone walls all around.

"Hey… Damnit…" His voice broke and he bent down to cough violently, only to discover a slight movement beneath the blanket.

Slowly, he finished his check and started a second round punching and knocking against the walls, kicking the door until his feet hurt as well.

Panting, he stood, still staring at the door.

"So", he mumbled. "That's pretty weird."

The figure beneath the blanket chose this moment to throw its cover away and sat up, rubbing his eyes before glancing around.

"Peter!" Nathan shouted relieved, and felt, at the same time, guilty about it. Whatever mess he had brought himself in again, Peter didn't deserve to stick with him in this.

Especially since the last thing Nathan had heard Peter had re-established his life as well as he possibly could, felt comfortable in his medical career, felt comfortable being as far away from Nathan as he could be.

And now his brother was swinging his legs down from the cot looking conspicuously paler than Nathan remembered him.

Peter stabilized himself by pressing his hands on the mattress, but still seemed to be off-balance.

His eyes were wide open, looking dark and big and lost around. When they swept over Nathan, who stood inexplicably still, Peter froze for a moment.

Nathan stayed quiet and Peter went on letting his eyes wander around the room.

No sign of recognition and Nathan wondered if Peter tried to punish him somehow by refusing to react.

"Wha… What happened?" Peter's voice sounded low and soft and was clearly filled with confusion.

Nathan shrugged and winced when the movement reminded him on his headache.

"Don't know", he said. "Looks like we're locked in. I can't remember why… How this happened. Last thing I knew is that I drank too much."

Ashamed of himself, he looked at his feet but Peter wasn't reacting.

When Nathan looked up again, Peter furrowed his brow and glanced back at him.

"I… I don't remember either", he said in an even lower voice than he did before.

Nathan nodded. "Did you drink… Or…"

He stopped when Peter frowned.

"No", the younger man said. "You don't understand. I can't remember anything."

Nathan gulped. "That's right. I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Peter lowered his head. "I… I don't know who I am, where I came from. And I don't know who you are."

He blinked shyly and now it was Nathan who frowned.

"What do you mean by that? You know me."

But Peter stared at him, all big eyes, all pale skin and long bangs, again much too long bangs falling into his face.

He hadn't cut his hair since they buried Sylar and Nathan found himself drifting back in time, remembering other, brighter days he had shared with his brother.

Then – slowly – Peter shook his head.

"I… I'm your brother", Nathan said softly, still not believing what he had heard.

Again, Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry", he whispered and Nathan felt a lump in his throat.

Sure – Peter had lost his memory before. Something must have happened to traumatize him again.

Nathan stepped back to the door and hit it again, more forcefully.

"We need help here", he screamed angrily and turned back when a startled gasp came to his ear.

Peter looked at him even more scared than before. He embraced himself as if he looked for protection, for something to hold on in this disturbing situation.

Nathan felt tempted to run over to him, to cradle him into his arms, to protect and care for him, but he stopped in time, noticing Peters eyes widen in more fear when Nathan made the first move into his direction.

Again, he stood still and held up both of his hands, bared and open in a gesture of submission.

"Don't be afraid", Nathan said in what he recognized as his comforting voice. "I'm your brother, remember? I just want us to get out of here."

Peter looked down. "I can't remember you", he said again, and Nathan let out a sigh.

"Yeah, I know", he said sadly. "And I'm sorry, too. But listen!"

Nathan took a step nearer to Peter, watching his reaction. "You've lost your memory before", he spoke. "And you found it back. You'll remember sooner than you might imagine."

Peter gulped. "I hope so", he said, and Nathan felt something like trust in the younger man's voice.

Nathan smiled. His first smile since he had woken up. And Peter answered his smile with the same crooked one Nathan had missed for far too long a time.

*

Minutes passed, then hours, and nothing changed.

Peter got up and helped Nathan checking out the surroundings. They had to give up quickly. Firm solid walls, a door which didn't moved a tiny little bit even when they jumped against it with joined forces, ground and ceiling without a single crack, left them exhausted and disappointed, sitting on the floor.

"Someone will come", Nathan promised. "There must be a reason why they kept us here." He rubbed his neck. "Who knows what Danko had planned. I… I really hadn't cared for a while."

He closed his eyes. "In fact, I hadn't cared for anything."

He looked at Peter. "Not even for you. And I'm sorry about this."

Peter frowned. "Even if I'm your brother, doesn't mean you need to care for me."

Nathan took a breath. "Well", he said. "I used too. I'm sorry we… We hadn't been able to…"

He stopped thinking about Peter having forgotten everything and about the reason why he might have forgotten about him. Then he shook his head. No use in letting this conversation going on. It certainly wasn't what his brother needed.

When Nathan looked at Peter the next time, the younger man had relaxed. He watched Nathan with an interested expression, stretched his legs and yawned a little bit.

Nathan was taken aback for a moment. Peter seemed to feel a little bit too confident all at once. Just like situations like these weren't that foreign for him. Just like he hadn't much he could worry about, he could lose.

Peter couldn't remember what he was able to lose, Nathan had to remind himself.

It might be a good thing that he was able to calm down.

"You know… You're a good looking guy", Peter said.

"What?" Nathan raised his eyebrows, and Peter smiled.

"Just thought. I mean, if we weren't brothers…"

"Peter!" Nathan felt himself blush.

Damn. Peter couldn't look that innocent, telling him things like that when he couldn't remember… When he didn't know…

Peter shrugged. His face fell apart. "Guess I'm gay then", he said. "Sorry, if you learn about it this way."

"I…" The words died in Nathan's throat before he could say them.

He cleared this throat. "That's no topic we should discuss here", Nathan demanded.

"What will we talk about then?" Peter bit his lip. "Can't think of anything."

"Nothing waiting for you to do outside?" Nathan suggested. "Nowhere you wish to be?"

Peter shrugged again. "Seems like there is nothing worth remembering."

"Well." Nathan felt the lump in his throat again. "I have to confess, that I understand what you mean."

"Really?" Peter looked up to him. "Tell me about it."

Nathan sighed. "Nothing", he admitted finally. "Nothing that would make any sense to you."

"Try me." Peter smiled, really smiled in a kind of seductive way and Nathan gulped audibly. Hell, this amnesia clearly affected Peter's personality.

Suddenly, the boy seemed to be more confident than he had ever been, even before they learned about their abilities. But then, later, after Peter had gotten used to them, he turned into the cold, distant man Nathan remembered from meeting the last times.

A strange mixture of both of these impressions didn't even come close to who he appeared to be now. Peter seemed experienced and confident in a way he had never learned to be. He seemed to be grounded, strangely comfortable in these weird surroundings, though he still wasn't remembering anything. And at the same time he showed no sign of the hidden cruelty Nathan remembered having sensed in him before they united in their last fight against Sylar.

Sylar!

Nathan blinked.

On the other hand, what did he know? His thoughts whirled around from time to time until he wished he would be able to forget, to forget everything, and to live his life again.

Nathan sighed and shook his head. No need in talking. Sooner or later, they would find out what had happened. Besides, they both had been in situations worse than this.

And Peter accepted his silence.

He leant back against the wall and started to stare into space. He seemed to see something Nathan couldn't get a grip on.

Instead, he took in the sight of his brother, for the first time in a while.

Nathan wondered about the clothes, which, in a way, didn't seem to fit him right.

No matter what Peter chose, he always took care to get the right size. But this time he hadn't.

Black always had been a good color for him, but this stuff looked old, too big, not like Peter**'**s at all.

Silence stretched between them. Nathan thought about questions, explanations, even apologies, but he couldn't find the right words.

None of them knew how much time had passed, until Peter blinked and looked at him.

"I remember something"; said Peter suddenly.

"Well – that's a good thing." Nathan mentioned and waited for more.

"It's… It has nothing to do with myself or with you…", Peter mumbled, somehow unsure.

"That's okay." Nathan stretched his back. "So – what is it?"

"Books", Peter shrugged. "I remember liking them, reading them all the time." He watched Nathan curiously. "What am I then? Kind of a librarian?"

Nathan smiled. "No. You're a nurse."

"Hm." Peter bit his lower lip. "Really?" he asked then. "Because I don't know anything about medics."

"It will return to you", Nathan promised. "And yes… You liked books, the classics. Not that I've seen you a lot with them, but you grew up kind of separated from me."

"And why's that?", Peter asked.

"Age difference, I guess." Nathan avoided Peter's glance. "I've been away a lot. My education took place in different institutions. I just saw you in holidays."

"That explains why I can't remember you", Peter mused.

They became silent again, Peter staring into the void and Nathan watching him secretly.

Time went by and they both grew tired.

"I can't believe that no one is coming", Peter murmured.

Nathan scratched his forehead. "There are lots of possibilities to deal with prisoners", he said. "We can suppose that there is a reason behind their not-contacting us."

"And how do you know?" Peter furrowed his brow.

"Navy", Nathan explained shortly. "You learn a lot of confusing stuff in the military. The advantages of mind-bending is just one of them. You would be surprised."

"No." Peter shook his head. "Guess I wouldn't. Human mind is capable of many things."

"You learned that from your books?" Nathan smiled, and Peter smiled back. "Guess so."

He sighed. "Anyway. It's getting cold and I'm tired.

Peter started to hug himself, and in spite of the poor light, Nathan got the impression that his brother's lips were turning slightly blue.

He rubbed his own hands and noticed that he started to get cold too. It just wasn't that bad compared to Peter who also seemed to be thinner than Nathan remembered him.

When Nathan imagined the coldness creeping under the delicate skin of Peter's slim form, his own heart started to bump in his chest and Nathan thought he could feel the blood rushing through his veins.

He wasn't yet freezing, but if Peter was right and this was just the beginning of the night, Nathan could tell that they hadn't many possibilities to keep themselves warm.

He stood up quickly, and started to pace from one edge of the room to the other. This time he wasn't looking for escape. Nathan already had decided it was useless.

He looked for something to warm Peter up, for he could see, that the younger man needed it.

But there was no surprise, when he couldn't discover anything else than the blanket Peter had woken up covered with.

Nathan paced a little more. From time to time he sent glances to his brother who seemed to have pulled back into a world of his own again.

Peter never even tried to get up, to move in order to become warm. In fact, he did nothing but staring into the void and waiting.

Nathan couldn't remember having seen his brother that helpless before. Never that unwilling to even try to search for a solution, to get into action, and the revelation annoyed him suddenly.

He stopped in front of Peter and placed his hands into his sides.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked impatiently. "What happened? I know you quite well, and you never had given up before. Created a mess, that's for sure, but you never stopped trying. It isn't what a Petrelli does."

Peter looked up in confusion. "I have no idea what Petrellis do, he said simply, and Nathan frowned.

"Look. When you're mad at me, I understand. You've got any reason to. And though I can't apologize often enough, I know that it's maybe too much to ask for your forgiveness."

His voice grew soft. The urge to explain himself to his brother grew with the irritation he felt when he looked down on the motionless figure. Without thinking Nathan went on: "I never should have done the things I did. Not with everything we meant to each other."

Nathan dropped this gaze.

"I should have trusted you earlier. I tried to protect, but I failed."

When Nathan looked up, he found Peters eyes staring at him, big and wounded.

"I'm sorry", the younger man said. "I can't remember. I…"

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"But one thing I can tell you." He silenced and Nathan took in the slim form of his brother, bent forward, shoulders slumped, face miserable with long bangs overshadowing his handsome features, and he recognized the pain this man was wearing with him, some pain he couldn't be sure about the reason.

"What is this?", Nathan asked carefully, his gaze not leaving Peters face.

Peter's eyes blinked open and Nathan felt like drowning in their bottomless darkness.

"When I look at you", Peter said. "I can tell that I love you. I… I can't imagine anything that could destroy this feeling. Whatever you have done, it can't be awful enough for me to not forgive you."

Nathan gulped. He answered Peter**'**s gaze, let his own love shine through and by the way Peter**'**s features lit up, he recognized that his brother understood.

Nathan let out a shaking sigh and closed the distance between them in few quick steps.

His lips moved when he tried to answer, to express his gratitude, but for once in Nathan's life, the words stuck in his throat.

Instead, he came down, crouched beside Peter and closed his arms around him.

The way Peter melted against him told Nathan that in spite of whatever amnesia this was, this part of his brother hadn't changed.

It felt like years ago, like all the times he had been responsible for Peter and his brother leaned on him, trusted him with everything, needed him, craved him in a way that had disturbed Nathan for long years until he finally, during one of his drunken states, had given in.

It took a while and lots of alcohol until Nathan could face his guilt. He had tried to stay away but consider this one part of their lives Peter had been the stronger person. He had endured Nathan attempts to run, to punish himself. He had stayed on his side until Nathan could accept what they shared, as wrong and crazy this was.

Sometimes, Nathan thought that the anger he showed last year, the way he treated Peter, had slept deep inside him for a long time and exactly for that reason.

He blamed his brother for his own weakness, blamed him for being able to tempt Nathan with a move of his eyelashes, with a half-smile, with a single touch or a whispered word in the darkness.

Peter never seduced him, but Nathan couldn't help but feeling seduced, feeling helpless and manipulated in a way he wasn't accustomed to, he couldn't deal with.

It was another kind of manipulation, not the one he was used to, from his parents, from his education, which he had learned to use himself. Peter never had been capable of this, just one piece of his personality which separated him from his family, and in Nathan's eyes, a gift he admired in his brother.

Peter's single appearance sometimes had been enough for Nathan to break down, to search his brother's closeness, to beg him for everything, everything he couldn't express with words but with hands and lips and pure skin on skin.

And Peter understood, and he never denied him. Instead, Nathan sometimes believed that his brother enjoyed it, to keep the upper hand, to be able to direct Nathan, to distract him from everything Nathan wanted, from his plans, his life, his own security.

It was a constant danger Peter had put him in. Nathan's life was fixed and clear. Nothing grey could be allowed, no secrets, nothing that hurt his family, destroy his career.

But Peter also was worth it. Nathan noticed again, when he hugged his brother closely, when he felt him sigh next to him, when he sensed skinny hands coming around his back, gripping him, running up and down his shirt, pulling himself closer into the embrace. His eyes flew open and Nathan froze when he felt hot blood rushing to his groin.

God – he couldn't. Peter wasn't remembering. Peter was innocent again.

Besides Nathan had to be careful. There could be cameras hidden in the corners, at least they could be taped. Countless reasons for him to pull back popped up in Nathan's head.

Still he couldn't, couldn't lose the touch.

Nathan pressed his lips against Peter's throat and Peter groaned.

Just keeping him warm, Nathan told himself. Just sharing body-heat. But then, he couldn't avoid kissing the younger man's throat again.

Peter arched into the kiss. His hands climbed up Nathans body, wandered over Nathan's neck, grabbed his cheeks with cold fingers.

Nathan shuddered and it wasn't from the cold.

"You're freezing", he whispered. "We should do something about it."

"What do you suggest?" Peter's voice sounded hoarse, and when Nathan pulled back a little bit, he flushed.

Nathan cleared his throat and gestured to the cot. "There is one blanket. You should use it and try to get some sleep."

Peter leant his head against Nathan**'**s shoulder. "You stay with me?"

Nathan let out a shaking breath. "Just if you're that cold", he said in a low voice.

"Do you think we are watched?" Peter asked, still leaning against Nathan.

The older man shrugged. "I don't know, but I couldn't reach every corner of this damned cell. There might be devices hidden above us."

Peter nodded silently, but yet stayed in their embrace as well as Nathan did.

"Just stay with me", he said hoarsely and this moment Nathan doubted that his brother couldn't remember the closeness they had shared. He felt it with each caress of Peter's fingers wandering up and down his body, felt that Peter knew, had to know what had happened between them. Had happened often enough that Nathan couldn't blame the alcohol, couldn't blame the irresistible pull of Peter's handsome shape or the sweet smell of his skin he inevitably had to notice whenever Peter came near to him.

Peter's scent, a mixture of musk and vanilla often had seemed like a drug to Nathan, like a sensation he had to avoid at any costs if he didn't want to be sucked into a whirlwind of emotions leading to events he never could apologize for. Not to himself, not to Peter, and not to his family.

It was a scent which accompanied Peter everywhere without him needing to do anything about it. And it was the reason why Nathan never understood, when Peter buried his face into Nathan**'**s chest, into the soft parts of his skin, telling him how much he loved him, how much he loved this.

Nathan believed he smelled horribly. He always had used expensive lotions and aftershaves to cover his scent, though in his own eyes, he never succeeded. But Peter took him like he was, no matter what sports he did, if he had cleaned up like crazy or if the sweat was drying on his body.

Another miracle about his brother Nathan could neither understand nor resist.

But he had to stay strong now, had to be the one in charge, the one who put them through this, whatever this was.

With a sound, he didn't know if it was caused from regret or from exhaustion, Nathan pulled Peter up and settled one of the younger man's arms around his shoulder.

He led them back to the cot, slightly irritated by the way Peter clung to him. He seemed to have no strength left, to melt again against Nathan's side, who shoved him forward, wondering what the hell had happened that stole Peter's memories as well as his will to live.

When Nathan settled him down on the cot and wrapped the blanked around Peter, he suddenly noticed that in this moment he exactly might have gotten the point. Without his memories, Peter obviously saw no reason for a fight.

He neither seemed to recognize the necessity to protest against their imprisonment, to even put it into question.

Like Peter had given up long time ago and without Nathan noticing. The older brother felt shame rising up inside himself. While he had drowned in self-loathing and alcohol, Peter had gone through some experience which must have hurt him badly.

He even had succeeded in hiding it in front of his brother and his family.

Nathan took his place beside Peter and put his arm around the younger man. He leant back against the cold wall and pulled Peter with him, accepting his weight sinking against his chest like it had when they were children. Well – when Peter had been a child and Nathan a young man who came to visit, trying to make up for the long months of separation within a few weeks and never managed to.

He kept them this way, rubbing Peter's sides and arms, finally catching his cold hands inside his own and warming them.

Neither of them spoke, and when Nathan listened to Peter's breaths going slower and more regular each minute, he allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling of finally being united with his brother again.

And strangely, all the doubts, all the fears hunting him the past months went away in a rush, leaving nothing but him and Peter in a world of their own. Just like it had to be.

*

Arthur grinned and looked back over his shoulder to Angela. "Works", he said shortly.

Angela curled her lips. "We'll see", she said. "It's Nathan showing up, suppressing Sylar without noticing. We still need to wait. Only when there is Nathan alone in command, we'll be able to break him."

*

Hours passed or maybe days.

Nathan knew no way to tell. No watch, no clock, no window, nothing answering their unspoken questions.

He felt increasingly edgy, became thirsty and from the way Peter kept on licking his dry lips and swallowing repeatedly after he had woken up, Nathan could tell that they must have stayed without food or water for more than 24 hours, probably longer.

His limbs ached from sleeping in an unfamiliar position, though he remembered coming to when they both laid on the cot, wrapped into each other, balancing on the slim mattress.

After a moment of disorientation he carefully had entangled himself, climbed over the sleeping form of Peter and started to pace, going in circles at first. He remembered his training and went on measuring up the distances in this cell, trying out how much steps he needed from one corner to the other. It seemed to be a boring and useless way to spend his time and Nathan felt rising anger adding to the disturbing mix of emotions and longings bothering him. He closed the feelings down and concentrated on his task.

With closed eyes and outstretched arms he made his way saving each corner, each obstacle into his memories for a future time he might need the information.

Nathan only stopped, froze in his movement to turn around and meet Peter's gaze who had propped up on one elbow and looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"Wha… What are you doing?" the younger man croaked and broke into a coughing fit until Nathan closed the distance between them, supported his brother to sit up and take in a few deep breaths until the coughs disappeared.

"Better now?" he asked in a low voice and tried not to enjoy the feeling of another warm body against his own. Nathan kept his arm lying around Peter's upper body, supporting him once more until Peter slowly brought his legs to the ground but made no effort to stand up.

And Nathan remained perfectly content with sitting next to his brother, feeling his closeness and trust after such a long time of separation, after all these weeks of spending lonely nights in the bureau or in a dark room waiting for a word, waiting for forgiveness which won't happen.

Maybe it happened right now.

Nathan felt guilty somehow for being able to shove away the fathomless danger they had been put in, for shoving away the fact that Peter couldn't remember him or what he had done. It felt a little bit like betraying him once again.

But Nathan shoved the thought away and pulled Peter closer, relishing to hear his brother letting out a content sigh and to melt against him once again.

Then it happened. The silence surrounding them which already felt like fate, was interrupted by steps. Hard steps of several feet, of boots coming closer.

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut to listen and he sensed them coming down a long way, like crossing a huge staircase growing slowly louder and louder until they finally stopped.

Nathan shot up. He gesticulated Peter to stay behind him and the younger man obeyed, miraculously. He seemed to be really exhausted, a shadow of the man he used to be, and Nathan felt an icy grip on his heart when he imagined the part he had played in this change.

It was kind of disturbing too, when he noticed how all his former doubts, fears and insecurities were wiped away for the need to protect his brother.

For a while, they listened just to the bolts being removed, to sounds which seemingly didn't stop. It became clear then why they hadn't been able to move the door an inch. Nathan counted at least seven bolts and the door still wasn't close to being opened.

Obviously their capturers feared more than Nathan's power, and more than he remembered Peter being capable of. Certainly not in the state his brother was now in.

At last, it became silent again though there couldn't be a doubt about the people waiting outside listening quite as intently as Nathan did.

Suddenly a deep voice spoke. It sounded slightly muffled but loud and clear enough to be understood.

"We're coming in", it said, and Nathan looked back over his shoulder to Peter who gave no sign of emotion about these words.

"Step away from the door", the voice kept speaking. "And then don't move. We have weapons and we'll use it with the first sign of resistance. Anything you try will end deadly for both of you."

Nathan nodded to Peter and the younger man got up to go as far away from the door as possible. Again Nathan took his place in front of him, covering his brother with his body.

They didn't move, didn't make a sound when the door finally was opened and five men stepped inside the room. Nathan could make out a glimpse of more men guarding the door and he figured there would be more in the staircase.

The guards stepping in were wearing uniforms, helmets and their faces were covered by black masks. The guns stayed pointed on the brothers and Nathan had no doubt that each one of them wouldn't hesitate to shoot if he tried something.

He cleared this throat, summoned up the authority he once had used casually.

"If it is about the money, I would be ready to make a deal", he suggested, staring the first man whose eyes stayed hidden in front of him down.

"This isn't about the money", the man answered. "Trust us, we get paid very well, Mr. Petrelli. You can't offer us any more."

"I'm ready to negotiate", Nathan tried, fighting down the fury which made his blood boil when he looked at the situation in front of him, but the man just raised his hand to stop him. Then he waved behind him and from outside one of the guards brought a tabloid with water and food, settled it quickly on the floor.

"We don't want you to starve", the man said, and Nathan could hear him smiling behind his mask. He clenched his hands into fists, when his vision grew red. He couldn't, he mustn't risk a stupid move. Not when their defenselessness was that obvious. He had to think of his brother.

"What do you want from us then?" Peter suddenly interfered.

"That's not your business", the guard answered sharply. "So keep your mouth shut and do what we keep telling you."

Nathan took a breath. "And what would this be?" he asked.

The man, obviously annoyed, turned back to him. "You'll keep on waiting just like we'll do. It's a question of time and none of us knows if it will take weeks, months or years for it to happen. Not yet."

"Years?", Peter gasped.

No one reacted to him. Instead, the men left faster than they had appeared, leaving nothing more than the sounds of the door closing and the bolts being brought back into place.

Nathan looked at Peter, who stared at the bottles of water. They had no choice but to trust the people having shown up. It was either starving or being poisoned and the fact that they hid their faces showed him that they were intended to be kept alive, as strange as it seemed.

A slight nodding was enough reason for Peter to rush forward and catch on the bottles. He eagerly pulled off the cap and started to drink. And for some reason the sight calmed Nathan down, distanced him from the flaming anger he had sensed just a minute ago.

Nathan watched the line of his throat when Peter gulped down the fluid and couldn't help but admiring the beauty his brother showed even in the most usual acts.

"Careful", he said low and took the bottle from Peters hands.

"We don't know how long we stayed without, or how long we will have to go with this."

Peter nodded hesitantly, and Nathan couldn't help but twinkle at him. "It won't be years", he promised his brother and Peter looked up to him, trusting like he had done when he was a child, trusting his big brother to lead him away from the trouble he had gotten into.

They sat down and ate.

Slowly time went by. Hours stretched without one of them knowing how many of them passed by before the next visit of their guards.

They talked about giving it a try, making an attempt to break out but both of them knew pretty well that they just would turn out to commit suicide.

Not that either of them felt much fear or sorrow with the thought, but they both managed to carefully keep their dark feelings away from the other one, not wanting to show more weakness than they already had.

Nathan didn't allow his frustration to show up or his fragile temper to rule him because he felt protective like he always did. Guilt put weights on him, and he couldn't help but feeling the craving need and his undeniable responsibility to find a way out of this.

He still was a Senator and they both were Petrellis. No chance that their vanishing would stay unnoticed. No way that their mother, his staff, the company or even Bennett wouldn't start a search. And besides - each one of them had proved to be capable of solving problems bigger than a little kidnapping.

He just needed to keep Peter going and when it was over – and Nathan started more and more to think about it – he would seek revenge. He would find the people responsible for this, and the people responsible for Peter's state of mind. And then…

Usually Nathan's thoughts stopped then, shied away from the feelings he sensed inside of him, the amount of flaring hatred beginning to overrule his rationality.

There still was something inside him, he feared to recognize as what it was. Something new and horrifying, something powerful and something that wasn't him, wasn't his real self.

He pushed it away, filled his mind with Peter. Peter who needed him, who kept on staring into space with this foreign and lost look in his eyes.

When Nathan asked him what he was thinking at, he either answered that he was trying to remember or that he kept daydreaming, constructing books in his mind he thought he read once. Sometimes, he spoke about them, and listened, thankful to Nathan filling gaps. Sometimes, Peter even begged him to tell about their former life.

Then he listened quietly, brow furrowed, but shook his head each time when Nathan had finished.

It was frustrating in a way. Even more frustrating when Peter told him about vague memories he believed he caught from movies or novels, but which seemed to be too disturbing to Nathan to provide a successful plot.

And sometimes, he even wondered if Peter should prefer the memory of a father having left after his birth and a living on the streets to the past Nathan tried to remind him on from time to time.

But this was a stupid thought to hold on, or so Nathan told himself.

Whatever his father had done to them and to Peter especially, at least he hadn't left them alone in a shitty apartment with a mother who preferred to get drunk or high instead of caring for her child. Their father, whatever crimes he had committed, he had provided them both with all the chances they could dream of. At least in the beginning.

And their mother – though being cold and absent – still remained there for them.

Nathan shook his head and the thoughts away when he stood up and stretched his body.

He already felt dirty and ugly wearing the same clothes for days, feeling the stubble growing in his face. He needed a shave and he envied Peter whose beard still wasn't more than a dark shadow on his white skin.

The small sink and the toilet did nothing to make him feel more comfortable, and he couldn't remember Peter, who had been trained in hygiene during his times in different hospitals, ever had been that cool about having no chance of cleaning up properly.

Time went by interrupted just by the rare change of tabloids. And soon Nathan sensed frustration returning stronger especially when combined with boredom crawling up his bones.

And he could tell that Peter experienced similar sensations.

They had searched the basement again and again. Had removed everything removable, thought through every possibility.

When everything failed, Nathan had tried to speak to Peter about his abilities, to find out how much he remembered, though it didn't really mattered. From the first day on, from their first thoughtless touch in this room, Peter must have taken his ability to fly, a gift which wasn't helpful considering the stone surrounding them and the amounts of weapons their guards were carrying with them.

Anyway – Peter hadn't understood, had smiled about Nathan's words clearly getting the impression the older brother told about some comics they read once, some fantasy they had shared.

So Nathan gave up on this too. Each time the guards came, he kept looking for a possibility, for a slight chance to use.

If he found one, he'd grab Peter and flee as fast as possible. He played the possibilities out in his head, the different way he attacked the men from different angles, different heights, with different force. He even included the possibility of Peter remembering and fighting the way they did when they hunted Sylar.

Still the memory was blurred, but Nathan knew about the determination Peter had shown, the will to fight and to survive.

A will which had vanished somehow and which Nathan didn't knew how to bring back.

"Hey."

Nathan looked up. He hadn't noticed how long he sat there, on the ground, leant against the wall, his knees pulled up, his arms embracing them like he needed something to hold on to.

For the scratches he had managed to produce into the wood of a shelf which held nothing but a bar of soap and some paper towels, they weren't in this room for no longer than two days, probably less, supposing that the short visits took place regularly.

But Nathan already felt the weight of the situation coming down on him, felt the pressure and the mind-numbing effects of being hold in a place. Sometimes he thought he couldn't stand it anymore. And he feared the moment when his will-power wouldn't suffice anymore to keep him in check.

Maybe he should be thankful for the small light they got, for the fact that they were left alone and even provided with everything necessary, but Nathan couldn't stop worrying about the reason for all of this.

And he couldn't stop worrying about Peter.

Maybe he shouldn't. Peter obviously wasn't as half as disturbed by all of this as Nathan was. Sometimes, he even seemed to be perfectly content with being left alone with his thoughts.

Nathan had asked him once, but Peter just had looked up to the ceiling, watching a fly moving slowly above them and told him, that with Nathan, he felt safe.

And then he had said things which disturbed Nathan even more. Had told him about who he imagined he had been, told him about a loneliness Nathan couldn't even imagine.

And he told him about a life on the streets, about himself being a lonely man called Jess.

Nathan had talked him out of it. Desperately, he had tried to strengthen the small line connecting his brother to reality, but sometimes it seemed to slip from his fingers.

No matter what he told Peter, the man looked up at him with his big, lost eyes. Sometimes he carried a smile, sometimes he raised his eyebrows, but usually he showed no reaction to anything Nathan kept telling him.

And finally, Nathan gave up. If Peter's mind wanted to protect him, he had to accept and hope that they would find a way to bring him back when they were out of this.

And this wasn't the only point Nathan started to give up on.

He found himself more often imitating Peter's behavior of sitting down immobilized, keeping on staring into space than he told himself being good for him… For them.

Sometimes Peter started pacing in his place. More and more, he took Nathan's role of controlling the space. Senseless as it seemed, it even was a way to spend time, to go on without getting crazy.

Peter's numbness started to fade away and he wasn't convinced of this being a good sign. His confusion grew when he watched the man he had taken for granted as being in charge becoming more and more quietly.

It was one thing to be the one who had given up, another thing to watch someone doing it. Especially if this person was important to one's self.

Peter stood still and shivered. It was cold in there, always cold.

He looked at Nathan, who hadn't moved, hadn't spoken for at least an hour and decided that he couldn't bear his silence anymore.

"You aren't sure, either", he said low, and waited for Nathan to blink and look up to him.

"What are you talking about?", Nathan asked hoarsely.

Peter made a small, pointless move with his hand. "All of it", he answered. "The reason why we are here, the person who I am, the person you are."

Nathan shook his head. "I know who I am and I certainly know who you are. The question why we are here will be answered sooner or later."

"In this life or in another", Peter said and smiled a little bit though he didn't really feel like smiling.

"Don't talk like that", Nathan spoke harshly, and Peter caught a glimpse of the impression his brother would leave on his people when he was in military service.

Not that he remembered that. He had no intention to remember.

As strange as the thought of himself being Peter Petrelli, a rich kid from a well-situated family, as strange it seemed to him that this handsome man with his soulful eyes and delicate lips should be a soldier, a politician, even a senator.

And the strangest of all was the idea of Nathan being his brother.

Peter allowed himself the thought of what could be if they weren't related, if he was the Jess he sometimes dreamt to be. If this man would have met Nathan in a completely different situation.

Though there existed no chance in this universe that two people from two extremely different places would have met each other, Peter couldn't help to find the idea entertaining in a way he should have felt guilty about.

But he didn't. The Jess he sometimes felt closer to than to the vague shape of Peter he couldn't quite get a grip on, wouldn't have anything to lose.

Certainly, no one would judge him worthy for being kidnapped, but this was only one of the advantages of this guy.

The other one clearly was that Jess would be able to approach a handsome stranger like Nathan in the most direct, most unmistakable way.

And Peter got the feeling that Jess would do so.

He caught himself still standing on the same spot, staring at Nathan, who had his eyes closed, his head leaned back against the wall. Peter envied him for not freezing. He wished he had the nerve to ask him for sharing his warmth at other times than during thecolder hours of the night. He wished Nathan would stand up and read his mind, would come closer and give him a hug, a hug which maybe wasn't that brotherly.

Of course, Nathan didn't. Of course he was a senator, a member of the famous Petrelli Family, a husband and comfortable being in the eye of the public.

Just that, he wasn't now.

Peter's eyes wandered down over Nathan's crumpled shirt, his open fly, dusty pants and shoes. And they stopped at Nathan's hands, balled in fists.

He hadn't noticed before, had been too absorbed in his own feelings, unsolvable questions and frustration to notice that Nathan pressed his fingers into his palms hard enough for the knuckles to turn white.

He even shivered. Barely noticeable, but he clearly shook. And Peter started to notice more things suddenly scaring him. Beneath the dark stubble Nathan's face was pale, nearly white.

The ruffled hair, a bit too long to fit into the classic image of a proper politician, stood up in some places. And one, or maybe two, of the dark curls were sticking to Nathan's forehead. Sweaty. Nathan sweat.

Peter frowned. Nathan couldn't be warm. It was winter and he froze all the time himself. Nathan was as slim as himself, and as glad as Peter had been when the brother had warmed him up through the night, as weird it seemed to be.

Peter looked closer. He should know. Hadn't he been told that he was a nurse? He should know what was happening. And somehow he knew. He had seen enough, experienced enough in his life.

"How long?" he asked, and waited for Nathan to look up at him again.

"How long what?" Nathan asked, clearly annoyed through clenched teeth.

Peter nodded. "How long without booze?"

Nathan sighed, then shrugged. "My last attempt to drink myself into a stupor led me directly into this."

He carefully unclenched his fists like he noticed just then.

"I thought about it", he went on. "They must have mixed something into my stuff." Nathan rubbed his sweaty forehead. "I can't see how they were able to do so with all the guards around and everything." He shrugged. "Some of them must have planned it, and I still don't see the reason. I'm nothing important right now."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Obviously you are", he stated.

Nathan shook his head. "It could be all about you as well. God knows you've been hunted and imprisoned often enough."

Peter shook his head skeptically, but Nathan went on. "Even, if you don't remember, there is a reason. You are special."

He looked up at Peter and the younger man not only noticed the red-rimmed eyes, he also noticed the admiration Nathan didn't try to hide.

And he shuddered, this time not from the coldness, but from the emotions running through him. Could it be that Nathan felt like he did – in a strange, forbidden way?

He shoved the thought away, tried to listen when Nathan went on, moving his lips which seemed to turn slightly violet. Words left his mouth and he couldn't stop them, couldn't take them back when they had hit Peter's ears.

"I'm weak", Nathan mumbled. "Always have been. I'm doing what I'm told to… Go to military school, go into the navy, become a lawyer, a politician, marry a wife who fits into the family…" He shook his head. "You've chosen your own way", he said then. "You're the strong one."

Nathan's voice cracked. "Sometimes I think it was just a question of time for me to break."

"Nathan."

Peter crouched down beside the brother, took one of his damp hands into his own cold ones. "You're not weak. I would know. It's the withdrawal speaking."

Nathan let out a shaky breath and looked Peter into his eyes. "No, it's not", he said quietly. "I feel like losing it for a long time now."

Peter shook his head. "Everybody reaches an edge sometimes. There are demons inside us peaking out when we are letting them, when we are numbing ourselves with drugs and stuff. Believe me – I know."

Nathan laughed bitterly. "You? How would you know? You never touched stuff like this. You're the healthiest person I ever met."

Peter sat down, still holding Nathan's hand in his, shrugged and smiled. "Then I got my experience otherwise", he grinned. "Maybe I've led you through some withdrawal before."

"No you didn't", Nathan snapped. "No way I'd let you."

And the sudden admission made Peter gasp.

Nathan tried to change the topic. "Anyway – the worst is over and I'm still alive."

His attempt of a smile failed, when Peter suddenly let go of his hand, but only to crawl closer to him, sit down beside Nathan to lean against the wall like him though the coldness of the stone made him shudder.

But his knees and legs felt not stable enough anymore to carry his weight and the exhaustion of the former day was back.

Peter dropped his head against the wall in an imitation of Nathan's former position.

"So – it's the time for confessions now." He took a deep breath.

"I love you, Nathan."

"I love you, too", Nathan answered automatically.

"Yes." Peter opened his eyes and stared to the ceiling. "It's just… There is more."

"Stop it." Nathan's voice sounded sharply at once. "Don't think about it."

Peter cleared his throat. "No, I mean – I'm just imagining we weren't brothers."

"I told you to stop." Nathan's angry tone changed into something desperate.

"I'm attracted to you", Peter said low. "I mean, I would jump you as soon as I got the smallest of signals."

"Damn Peter." Nathan shook his head. "Can you imagine that we are watched? Listened to? Taped? Right this moment. Could you just deal with your boredom otherwise – for once?"

Peter turned his head slowly to look at him. "Then you're not disgusted", he whispered.

"God, Peter. I thought you wouldn't remember."

"I don't", Peter said. "But I have fantasies, and I can imagine things, and you are just my type."

When he glanced at Nathan, he noticed the flush spreading on the man's cheeks.

"Besides, I remember you having expressed that your life needs a change. Crisis is the first step to change."

"I… I didn't mean…" Nathan's voice was hoarse and low and he looked up to the ceiling as if he could discover something they hadn't seen before.

"This is stupid", he whispered. "We were young, and we were careful… Extremely careful. Could you imagine what this would do to our family now?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know my family. I only know you, and that I'm cold and alone and frightened. And that I can't bear the thought of you being cold, alone and frightened too. Let me help you. I know how."

Nathan's breathing stopped. "How would you know?"

It was a stupid thing to say. Nathan would have slapped himself, if he could bring up the energy.

Certainly Peter knew, he knew better than anyone else, knew Nathan's body better than anyone else did.

Images popped up, images of stolen, shared hours in the past, of moments they had felt safe.

They weren't anywhere near safe now, and Nathan bit his lip to stop its trembling.

"Stop it", he begged, and he didn't knew if he begged Peter or his mind to stop.

"I don't know how", Peter said finally. "But I know that I do, that I did… That I did a lot of things."

"I don't want to hear." Nathan fought down the spark of jealousy showing up, the suddenly hot anger quickening his pulse.

"Then let me show you", Peter whispered into his ear. "We'll cover ourselves. You'll warm me up. You'll give me something to hold onto." He leant closer and Nathan smelled his skin near to his. "What if we'll die today?" Peter asked and Nathan felt his breath. "It can happen, it will happen someday, anyway."

"Don't speak of death." Nathan's voice broke. "I can't see you die again."

"Then you did?"

Peter felt distracted for a moment, but the hurt deep in Nathan's words brought him back to the present and he gave in to his feelings.

He slowly leaned against Nathan, moved his head across the brother's chest and pulled the blanket up to cover them both.

"Push me back", he said low. "Tell me to go, and I will. But I don't want to lose one more second."

Nathan didn't. "You know I can't", he whispered. "I never could."

Nathan laid his arms around the younger man, pushed him up a little bit until Peter's lips met the soft skin of his throat.

"Then this is the answer." Peter's lips barely moved when he talked. His left arm came up to rest on Nathan's shoulder and he started to lick and kiss the salty skin he could reach.

"You taste good", he said.

"No, I don't", Nathan answered and pulled the blanket higher to build a cocoon or at least the illusion of a hide-out.

"I'm disgusting", he said and meant it when he arched up while Peter snuggled against his neck to catch a piece of skin between his teeth.

"Peter", he sighed, feeling the warmth rushing into his groin, feeling the beating of his heart like loud thumps and coldness and shivering vanishing with the mixture of presence and memories.

"God, there", Nathan panted when Peter crawled up and kissed the tender place behind Nathan's ear, licked and sucked on the spot with an expertise Nathan hadn't expected. The flash of jealousy came back but faded away with the sensation of Peter sucking in his earlobe and playing with it using his tongue.

"Jesus", Nathan groaned again, barely noticing Peter's hand pulling up his shirt and reaching beyond to touch pure skin. He didn't stop there but went further, let his fingers glide up Nathan's side aiming for a nipple he circled carefully, teased and tweaked then until Nathan suppressed a loud moan.

"That's enough", he grumbled, using both of his arms to turn Peter in his lap and bring him high enough to be able to meet his lips in a forceful crush.

Lips tingled when mouths opened to let teeth clack against each other in an almost painful way, more aggressive, more demanding than Nathan remembered Peter ever had been.

His tongue searched for entrance and when Peter let him in, a throaty sound escaped both of them, like they had discovered an emotion they hadn't known they were missing.

But they had, he had, Nathan thought when he licked into Peter's mouth, when he explored the wet cavern, when he bit on the lower lip he loved to taste.

And like he had when they first met in this place, Peter melted against him. All fighting for lead, for dominance gone when Nathan plundered the sweet mouth, took his breath away, kissed him senseless, kissed them both senseless until he was drowning in a sea of pure relief.

This was what he had needed, what he had dreamt of, what he wanted. All confusion, all doubts were blown away by Peter's lips on his own, by being with Peter, tasting the love he only could share with him.

Nathan pulled Peter closer. He knew he had to stop, to stop for breath. He already felt dizzy, but he couldn't. Couldn't give up what he had feared never to be able to feel again.

He would never ever allow anything to come between them, to part them, to make him suffer like he suffered.

This was the solution, this was his way to gain strength.

And this was the moment when the door opened, when the first sound of cracking bolts overcame the buzzing in his ears.

And Nathan noticed that Peter heard it too, when he sucked in the air from Nathan's lungs.

They parted, panted, stared at each other wide-eyed before Nathan shook away the blanket and came to his feet, staggering, shaking, but taking his place in front of his brother who he felt pulling himself up, breathing raggedly.

The guards rushed in as soon as the bars were unlocked. No word this time, no warning, and Nathan felt cold fear freezing his blood. Something was different, and he couldn't tell what it was, not yet.

Realization hit him faster than he could bear it but not fast enough.

He fought, but he was pushed away easily, removed from his place by brutal force of several well-trained men bigger than him, stronger than him, experienced and confident in what they were doing.

They shoved him back, against the other wall and held him there, held him tight, but not tight enough to prevent him from seeing what happened.

"No", he screamed when the shots hit his ears, caused a moment of deafness, a moment of time standing still when he helplessly watched Peter sinking to the ground, blood spreading as a wet spot on his shirt, growing quickly.

They shot again and Peter's mouth opened in a silent cry.

And then they left. The men holding him let go and vanished through the door, locked it behind them, but Nathan couldn't care less.

"Peter!" His vision was red, he saw blood everywhere. Blood was everywhere, but miraculously Peter's face was spared, bringing the white of his skin even more to his attention.

Nathan fell down beside him, the world breaking apart, going to hell. He just saw Peter, deadly wounded. The shots had been accurate, accurate enough to leave Peter a few last breaths, but to leave no doubt on the mortal injury.

Nathan bent over Peter, he pulled him up, cradled him into his arms, kissed his pale face, screaming sounds he couldn't hear himself.

A small bloody, dangerously shaking hand came up and rested on Nathan's lips.

Through the curtain of his tears, Nathan saw Peter looking at him, moving his lips, trying to say something.

He saw the life fade away from these beautiful eyes and he couldn't bear the sight.

Nathan buried his head between Peter's neck and shoulder, desperately wishing for it all having to be a bad dream, a nightmare he would wake up from soon.

"Please", he croaked. And then he heard Peter's voice one last time speak to him, saying broken words into his ear while the painful noise around him stopped.

"Not…" Nathan heard. "I'm not… Peter…"

Nathan's tears soaked the parts of Peter's shirt which weren't already wet with blood and he didn't care.

He stayed with Peter when his body shook one last time. He saw the light vanishing from his brother's eyes. From his brother, who had believed at last that he wasn't his brother anymore.

And Nathan held the dead body in his arms, emitting sobs and sometimes cries until he broke down, lost consciousness, still holding the cold weight.

*

Arthur glanced at Angela. "Thought you didn't want to see this."

Angela answered the glance with a pointed stare. "You didn't want me to see this. It's my duty to know everything about his reactions."

"You think it worked?" Arthur frowned slightly. "He's still Nathan. Still remembering."

"Give him time." Angela shook her head. "He is strong and he clings to his humanity. We always knew that."

Arthur nodded. "We always knew that his affection to his brother made him weak. As you said, Peter kept him away from becoming the man he's destined to be."

He bent forward to stare at the monitor. "I still can't see why we couldn't use Peter for this. You know the boy had been a thorn in my side from the start."

"We need him", Angela stated. "In case the remnants of Sylar became stronger than we need them to be, overtook his personality, Peter is the only one who could adopt his powers and fight him."

Arthur smiled. "But you promised me that wouldn't happen. Parkman did well. He banned Gabriel just enough for us to reach his recklessness and his hunger, but no useless aspects of his damaged soul."

He sighed playfully. "My wife – always careful."

Angela pursed her lips. "You shouldn't complain about my carefulness. I saved your life. If I hadn't placed the anchor to your genetic code inside our son, we wouldn't have been able to revive you again."

"I know", Arthur mumbled. "If I had been more careful, I wouldn't have been killed in the first place, and my body wouldn't have been forced to stay in a freezer for months while I watched the world through Nathan's eyes without being able to direct him as much as I wished to."

"You did well enough." Angela patted his hand. "We are lucky that our son usually is so easy to manipulate. If it wasn't for…"

"His brother", Arthur finished. "And your interest to keep them both alive."

He shook his head.

"He'll be what we want him to be", Angela said. "He'll be the most powerful man in the world soon enough. He will combine Sylar's search for power with a shining career. And he will do exactly what we tell him to. The Nathan you wanted to get rid of will be gone. And the Nathan who can fulfill all our dreams will set his feet into the White House and let us rule the country and soon the world."

"Your word", Arthur smiled. "Your word."

His glance fell back to the monitor. "When it works."

"Trust me, it will." Angela nodded determined. "I know my son, I know both of them."

And she watched Nathan cradling Jess Mariano in his arms, covering the man's face with his tears, breaking apart.

* * *

Peter woke up from bad dreams. This wasn't unusual for him, especially since he missed his brother. And he was ready to admit at least to himself, that he really missed him.

This couldn't go on.

Besides, he experienced the feeling that something happened, something bad. And it had to do with Nathan as well as with the strange woman from the diner who took him for another man.

Peter couldn't get rid of the memory, couldn't help believing that this Jess guy had something to do with the company, these damn abilities, with all the stuff he tried to forget.

So he went and searched for him.

It wasn't easy but it wasn't really hard as well.

And when Peter stepped up the stairs to the small, dirty apartment in the middle of a bad area, he saw his fears come true.

The house owner took him for the man who lived there for years, and demanded his rent as well as an explanation why he hadn't shown up for days.

When Peter paid, he let him in without another word, and left him alone, still taking him for Jess.

Peter didn't stay. He couldn't. The feeling of something bad happening grew stronger within these walls.

He went through a package of pictures shoved carelessly on top of a shelf, most of them pictures of people Peter didn't recognize. Until he stared into his own eyes, or in the eyes of a person looking like him. Looking so much like him it frightened Peter.

He thought about Nikki, Jessica and Tracy, grabbed the picture and left the building in a hurry.

Nathan, he had to talk to Nathan.

But Nathan wasn't there. When Peter went to the office he learned that Nathan hadn't been there for days.

Peter felt alarmed.

The next step led him naturally to the mansion, where he asked the employees who admitted in not having seen him either. There were rumors of a business trip Nathan had gone on as well as rumors of a small vacation.

Peter left puzzled. And for once, he regretted having avoided Nathan. It felt like he didn't know him anymore. And Peter went straight to the company building, straight into the rooms he had decided to never visit again.

"I need to talk to Nathan or to my mother", he said in a commanding tone he rarely used. "As soon as possible."

Bennett folded his newspaper. "Well, they aren't here", he said and looked coldly at him through his glasses. "What are you doing here? Thought you wanted to stay away."

"I did", Peter said and scratched his forehead with one finger in order to hide the concentration on his face when he tried to listen to Bennett's thoughts.

It happened quickly. He became better at it each day.

'Damned', Bennett said in Peters head. 'I wonder which ability he got now. This guy is a walking risk. Angela could tell me whatever she likes. I'll never believe he'll be harmless in the end.'

Peter tried not to blink. "Any idea where my mother went?", he asked and forced himself to a smile.

'Hiding in the basement for ages', Bennett thought. 'But I won't complain when the whole thing brings the senator back on track. At least they are his parents. Whatever mind-games they are playing, it will turn out well.'

"Yeah", Bennett said loudly. "The last time I saw her she planned to show Claire around. You know… Make her pretty… Introduce her to the important people."

"Poor thing." Peter showed real compassion. "I've gone through this. It isn't ending well."

"Except for Nathan", Bennett mentioned and Peter brought himself to another smile.

"Except for Nathan", he repeated and sighed. "Okay", he nodded to himself. "I've got an idea where to look for her. She will know about Nathan."

Bennett looked at him. "That's what I assume", he said and Peter turned and left. He tried to take his time, to be slow, to be careful, but when he was outside he felt himself running before he noticed that he did.

He stopped abruptly, rested his hands on his knees and breathed.

Something was going on. And he had to act on it.

Peter knew the basement for years. They had stored a lot of things back then.

Things like the remains of Sylars ashes, the bones and proofs they had found and hadn't want to go public. He had stored them, together with Matt and Mohinder, while Angela had danced around Nathan, prepped him for the official speeches he planned to do, never left him alone, not a single moment, until it was too late.

'No.' Peter shook his head. It never was too late.

Again, he approached the building, this time much more carefully, quiet and unnoticed.

He slipped into a basement two buildings in front of the one he aimed for, and used the secret hallways to reach his aim.

*

"It's Peter", Bennett said into the phone. "He's wondering."

"We will handle him", Angela answered. "It's too late. He can't do anything, even if he intends to."

She stroke back one of Nathan's curls. "You need to cut these", she said with a smile.

"Yes..." Nathan frowned. "Yes, Mum", Angela said still smiling. "You will remember soon. Just listen to your mother and everything will be perfect. Don't you think, Nathan?"

"Yes, Mum", Nathan answered. "I'll try."

* * *

Peter opened the zipper. He had known before, but it still shocked him to see Jess lying there in his own blood. A man he had never seen before and who looked too much like him. He closed the zipper and turned around. Nathan couldn't be far away.

He could smell them, smell death. He could hear her thoughts and he heard the voice of the person he feared more than anyone else, now with Sylar dead.

He followed the voice and stopped short. There was a stairway leading deeper into the earth and after a moment of hesitation Peter followed the stairs down.

A door opened in front of him and Peter couldn't help but gasp in relief.

"Nathan", he said and closed his eyes for a second. "Thank God. What the hell are you doing here?"

Nathan stared at him for a moment. "I…", he tried and looked back over his shoulder where Angela showed up.

"Peter", she said. "What a nice surprise to see you here."

"Yes." Peter answered. "I… Looked for Nathan. What happened?"

Angela took him aside. "He's stressed, kind of burned out, and besides, you know this little problem he has… Had? We needed to deal with it."

"But… Right here?" Peter looked around in horror. "You should have called for me. I'm experienced."

"We tried to keep the circle as small as possible", Angela mentioned harshly and no matter how hard he tried Peter couldn't hear anything else in her.

'He's dead!'

Peters head shot around and he met Nathan's eyes wide in fear. The voice of his older brother broke.

'How can it…'

Pictures flooded Peter's mind, pictures of him lying dead on the ground, of Nathan throwing himself over the bloody figure and of Nathan sobbing over his little brother's death. Pictures of Nathan being pulled away from the corpse and left alone in a room sticky with blood.

Thoughts of revenge made him shake, the craving to punish, to kill the people responsible turned into need, turned into thoughts of hatred and the craving for violence. Violence against everyone guilty or not. Red flaming hate filling each cell of Nathans body with pleasurable dreams of blood and death.

And suddenly Peter saw Nathan rest, smiling in the midst of the room, enjoying the sight of destruction, the tracks of violence, the smell, the feeling of wetness on his hands, on his skin, the sight of blood everywhere, remembering the hunger, remembering everything the monster in him had done once ago.

And then with a cry of fading pain the thoughts vanished and there was nothing but void in Nathan's mind.

Peter stared at him and noticed the tears running down his cheeks. But he caught no emotion behind them, nothing. A big space ready to be filled with… Anything.

"Son!"

Peter whirled around and met Arthur's smug grin.

"Surprise, Pete. You really hadn't thought you'd get rid of me that easy."

He laughed shortly and without humor, before he went on. "Now listen to me and listen properly. If you don't we'll need to repeat a procedure like this one. Just, this time your brother will be killed in the process. Be sure we know where to find a perfect doppelganger. It comes down to kill Nathan or to go our way."

His father glanced at Peter confidently. "Don't try to pretend you'll have a choice."

And when Peter watched his mother placing a supporting hand on Arthur's shoulder, her eyes matching Nathan's empty ones, he staggered. But he knew as well that it was true. That he had no choice.

The end

78


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